A Tribute, to my friend and savior, Angela VaughanEricIz Mine
by Lilliana Dearing
Summary: I know, this isn't a story, but for those who follow me, and those who are familiar with EricIz Mine's work, you will understand and appreciate why I have posted this. Thank you all for taking the time to read and let me express myself. With much love, Lilli.


A Tribute, to my friend and savior, Angela Vaughan/EricIz Mine

By, Jennifer Farstad/Lilliana Dearing

Where to start? I guess at the beginning, after all, this is a story in a way. My story, of the woman, who saved my life and didn't even know, and how her life impacted me. I know to some this will seem silly, after all I never met Angela (never Angie she told me on the very first time we spoke) in person. We did talk on the phone a few times, and we talked on Facebook a ton. Her life, her words, her imagination, and now her death, has impacted me in ways that I couldn't imagine, and that she didn't even know. She helped me in ways that I never told her, because of my own shame, and now I am left with the bitter regret that I never told her how she helped me.

Six years ago, I read my first fan-fiction story. It just so happened to be Dead Tired, by Angela. I was fascinated. I mean, this was so much better then anything I had read in so long. Sure, it need a little polishing (anyone who has ever spoken to Angela knows how she felt about that story, and even though a ton of us loved it, it was definitly not her favorite), but I was hooked from the very first line. Things in my life were already really hard, and fan-fiction just seemed like a perfect escape from the monotony of my life. My marriage, was already on the outs. My ex was, well a bastard, and although I had finally been blessed with my daughter (after trying for almost ten years and loosing one at the end of my first trimester), things in my life were far from coming up roses.

I had never even heard of fan-fiction, hell I can't even remember how I stumbled across it. I have never been more glad that I did. All of the sudden I was bursting with ideas. I was writing. Something I hadn't been able to do in years. Every single page I read, just helped to motivate me further and further into my own creativity. While my muse was on a high, my marriage, was getting worse and worse. Angela and I had struck up multiple conversations, and I called her and we talked for hours about everything from her brothers views on vegetarians, to her Sookie's real motivations and feelings in her Dead Tired story.

I am sure some of you who are reading this are familiar with my work, and have wondered many times over why I stopped writing. Well, you are about to finally get that answer. So, creatively things were great, I was on a roll. Angela, who was so helpful and understanding, helped me set up my own Word Press, because around this time, the dumb ass kids were getting peoples stuff yanked off of Fan-fiction. However, my personal life couldn't have been worse. I had what is known as a mental break. I didn't speak, eat, or do anything for almost a month. I was barely aware of my surroundings. Things in my home were so bad that I contemplated killing myself. Needless to say it was a very dark time for me. I was like that zombie Bella that Sephenie Meyer wrote about. Functioning, but not really. There but not really there.

The only thing that got me out of bed every day, was that I could escape into fan-fiction. I don't even remember half of what I read. I was just going through the motions of life. A life that ever day I didn't want more and more. Then about a month after this whole thing started, I read this chapter of Saints and Sinners. Any one who knows Angela's work knows this chapter. Sookie, is going off on Amelia for being such a selfish cow and really not thinking about anyone but herself. I don't know what it was about that chapter, but I just sort of snapped out of it. Sure, I could kill myself and finally have some peace after years and years of abuse from every person that I trusted, but that would really make me no better then Amelia, who friggin' poisoned her kids because she was to busy caught up in her own bullshit to care.

I did what I had to do. I got up, washed my ass, cleaned my house, and tried to get through each day, even when some days I felt like I couldn't breathe, because of my anxiety and depression. Whenever it got to be to much, I would just re-read one of Angela's stories. I would take time, and loose myself in the wisdom that only Angela's Sookie's seem to have, about life, the universe, and everything. Some days it was all I could do, to force myself up out of my bed and face the world. I would lay there and stare at the ceiling, wishing I could just have a moments peace from my depression, anxiety, ex, and sister (who was living with me). I would tell myself, ok, if Angela's Sookie was here, she would kick you in your ass, drag you out of the bed, make you take a shower, and pour coffee down your throat. So get your ass up, and do all that shit, and you can read some of Angela's work as a reward. It will make you feel better. And it did. Day in, day out, I knew I could rely on it being there for an hour or two, to help me cope with the crushing issues that were going on in my life. Every time that I have felt that life was to much, I would stop and breathe, and take some time in Angela's world, to get my head on right.

My husband left, it's ok, Angela's Sookie taught me that it is ok to be upset and independent. My life seems like its falling apart, it's alright Angela's Gran would tell me it only hurts for a little while, but to stop pitying myself. My anxiety seems uncontrollable, it's ok, Angela's Sookie said you have to take things one small step at a time. I still couldn't bring myself to bring pen to paper, but it's alright, I have to take it one day at a time. I could give you a million other examples, but you get the idea. Now I know what you're thinking. 1) It's a little co-dependent to rely on a fan-fiction writer to solve you personal life issues. Obviously, but shit, it worked for me and if it ain't broken don't try and fix that shit, it only makes shit worse when you do. 2) What kind of crazy person uses fictional characters to fix herself. Well, me, but it worked. I am still here, I am better then ever and I finally have my anxiety and depression mostly under control. I still have my dark days, of course, but I am able to finally cope. Now, instead of relying on Angela's writing to help me function, I can read it just for the fun of reading her amazingly, brilliant work.

Angela saved me. Over and over again. Quite literally, her words kept me from killing myself, and helped me find a better way to function day to day. I never told her, because of the shame in contemplating it to begin with, and being unable to function, (who wants to admit that) and I didn't want to come off as that weird girl who takes way more then she should from her work. Of course now I wish I had told her, regardless of how it would make me look or how uncomfortable that conversation made me.

When I found out she passed away, I thought it was a cruel joke. I prayed that it was. Then on the morning of November 13th, my 35th birthday, it was confirmed that Angela had indeed passed away. Needless to say I was devastated. I spent most of my morning, crying my eyes out and commiserating with my fellow brats. (Angela had a group of facebook called the brat-pack, a place where her fans could get together and talk about everything, and be bratty about when the next update was coming out.) A few, realized it was my birthday, and we talked about how I really didn't want to have fun, I just wanted to be miserable, and they so eloquently told me that if I didn't go and enjoy my day, the ghost of Erica Wiess (Sookie's alternate persona in Intrepid) would come and kick my ass. That, me being miserable, would be the last thing Angela would want. So I pulled up my big girl panties, took a shower and washed off the snot and tears, did my hair and makeup, banished myself from Facebook so I wouldn't start crying again, and tried my hardest to enjoy my day. It didn't really happen, but I had brief moments of something close to happiness.

Today, I cried more, and made some resolutions. After all what is life, but a HUGE learning experience, one in which every tragedy and every happy moment teaches you something new. Angela's tragic passing has taught me several things and I have made a few promises to myself in which I hope to never break.

*Never, ever, be ashamed to share how you feel with someone. You might not get another opportunity to share. This is a lesson, I thought I had already learned, but apparently it had to be reinforced in me.

*Always take the time to enjoy those around you, after all, life is short, and you never know when your time is going to be up.

*I am going to see a baseball game at least once a year and have a beer. Just because I know she would have loved to be able to do that.

*I am going to get my shit together and start writing again. Lord knows, I don't want to have people who love my work be upset and devastated if I leave it unfinished. Like so many of her fans are now devastated that we will never find out what is in that damn vault or find out if Gawain and Linda ever end up together, or see the awesome reunion between Eric and Pam during a skip.

*I am going to try and be grateful every day for the things I have, and not focus so darn much on all the b.s. in the past. If Eric in Nuclear Winter could move on, so can I.

So, thank you Angela for all that you have done. Thank you for always having a kind word, thank you for the inspiration, thank you for your work which helped me through some of the darkest times in my life, thank you for always getting my jokes, thank you for singing Dance Magic Dance with me whenever the mood struck, thank you for being you. I feel blessed to have known you, and although I am absolutely gutted by your loss, my life is richer because I have known you.

Thank you all for reading,

Jennifer Farstad a.k.a Lilliana Dearing


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